by Sakwa, Kim
Amanda froze. That was it.
The last piece of the puzzle locked into place, her memory crystallized, and what felt like small fragments of lifetimes fraught with every emotion was now exposed in full, a landmark panorama of remembering she’d tucked away for later viewing. OHMYGOD. A sound much like a gurgle escaped her lips, though it sounded far away, not from her, as the cake fell from her hands. Amanda’s head whipped up on its own accord, and her eyes locked on Stephen, who dropped his phone in his rush to grab hold of her when her knees buckled.
“Amanda?” She knew Stephen was shouting, completely panicked, but his voice sounded like they were underwater. Amanda’s vision swam as he continued. “Lizzy, call 911,” he yelled over her shoulder, lowering Amanda to the ground gently, trying to avoid the sheet cake that lay between them, and some on them. He tightened his hold as she wobbled on her knees and started shaking uncontrollably, then she clutched his arms.
“OhmyGod, Stephen,” she said in a sudden moment of clarity before her eyes blurred again.
“Christ, Amanda,” he said, looking terrified. “Tell me what’s wrong. Where do you hurt— Jesus, Lizzy, how long!”
Shaking her head, Amanda reached her hands up for his face as the dam broke. “You’re here…he’s here. Oh my God…you’re both…here,” she sobbed, unable to handle the impossibility of what she was now realizing was the complete and utter truth somehow.
“Bloody hell, Am.” His eyes filled with tears too. “You remember.”
She nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak as Stephen pulled her up and hugged her tight.
“Christ, I missed you,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “Cancel that call,” he told Lizzy, still keeping her close.
Amanda started convulsively nodding as she found steady footing, and then clutched at Stephen’s jacket, jumping up and down, ignoring Lizzy’s—rightfully—confused expression.
“Take me to him,” she cried, tears still flowing, this time from happiness.
Like it was infectious, Stephen did the same, nodding and jumping before grabbing her hand to run from the store.
“Wait,” Lizzy called after them, handing Stephen his phone. “Should I make another cake for tomorrow, Amanda?”
Amanda shook her head, smiling broadly, and said, “We’re good, Lizzy.” Then she laughed. “My husband doesn’t like chocolate, anyway.”
Lizzy looked even more confused, but then chuckled and said, “I’ll make it vanilla and deliver it myself.”
Stephen pulled Amanda outside as she waved to Lizzy and thanked her, feeling like the whole world had righted itself. Stephen started calling his brother as he opened the door to the truck, but Amanda covered his phone. “No,” she said firmly. She wanted to tell him herself. Oh God, he’d found her, her eighteenth-century Royal Navy admiral—her husband—had found her. Just like she’d always known he would.
“How far are we?” she asked when Stephen pulled onto the highway.
He checked his navigation, looked in the rearview mirror, and told her, “I’m taking the shortest of three routes, and still the compound’s about an hour and half southeast of here. Do you want me to have him meet us at the house instead?”
“No.” She shook her head, barely able to contain the giddiness she felt. “Don’t say anything.” She wanted to take his glorious face in her hands and tell him that she remembered. Everything. Sighing in anticipation, she palmed the window, fingers splayed in that gesture that had been a part of her sorrow-filled days for so long. How many nights had she craved that tactile touch, as if staring out the window with her hands pressed firmly to the glass would bring him home? Or make him feel her love wherever he might be. Their headlights provided an occasional glimpse of the mountains as they sped by, the only thing illuminating the all but deserted highway at this hour.
Amanda kept thinking back to that morning after the gala. How they’d decided to wait until they’d arrived in New York to make their new togetherness permanent. At the time it had made sense and seemed like a good place for them to transition. He’d held her in his arms then, and told her the past didn’t matter any longer. God, she’d had no idea then, the lengths that this man had gone in pursuit of her. The discipline he must have, the restraint amazed her, because after tonight, she wasn’t letting him out of her sight. She wanted to know everything—everything—that had happened from the time she’d let go on that cliff to when he’d found her. What he’d done. How he’d done it. But all she kept thinking now was, I’m coming, Alexander.
Halfway through the drive Stephen told her the turn for the compound, where she’d never been before, was coming up. Other than that, they’d barely said a word. She sat, tense with anticipation as Stephen drove. And then he wasn’t driving anymore.
Her stomach churned as the truck swerved and Stephen yelled out something that sounded like “Hold on, Amanda,” but she couldn’t quite hear him over the blood rushing through her ears. She screamed as they struck something, and her head banged against the window. The truck spun, and as Stephen fought for control, the front passenger-side tire hopped over the guard rail. With the speed they were going and weight of the Nav, the driver’s-side tire went over next. Like a seesaw, the truck dangled on the steel embankment, metal eerily creaking on metal as it rocked back and forth. Amanda and Stephen shared a look, a snapshot no more than a millisecond before the truck pitched forward on the downward swing hitting something else before the ground beneath them fell away completely and the truck plunged to the earth below.
“Pour some scotch, boy,” Alexander told Trevor with a grin.
He and his band of brothers, extended crew included, were at their compound. He loved it. God bless Art Fisher, who’d seen well into the future and built the state-of-the-art facility hidden deep in the mountains. It was constantly bristling with activity. Combat training, SAR training, weaponry, explosives, surveillance, bloody hell, add to that list ad infinitum. Looking around him, Alexander realized that his purchase of JDL months ago really had been the beginning of a new empire. Here. Now. There wasn’t any other place he wanted to be. He and Amanda had a future. And it would be good. And it would be together.
Bloody hell—YES!
Having just finished a round of war games in the underground part of the facility, the crew had gathered around the large conference room table, still in full regalia of fatigues and face paint. Alexander laughed when they opted for waters and power bars instead of cigars and scotch. The lights flickered a moment, which caused him to look up briefly, but he didn’t pay it much attention. They were talking of expansion now; Chris was explaining the particulars. Bloody hell, business was very different than—
The lights flickered again, then went off completely. Ten seconds later the generator kicked in. Trevor started hitting the keys harder on his computer.
“That won’t help,” Alexander laughed.
“I think we’ve lost the mainframe,” Trevor said, his brows drawn together in puzzlement.
“Why I don’t really care for computers,” Alexander told Trevor, thinking nothing of it. “Power’s down, computer’s down. As Amanda would say, Duh!”
Trevor shook his head. “It’s not the power, boss.”
“Alexander.”
Amanda’s voice came through their earbuds and he froze, the smile falling from his face.
They all looked up from what they were doing—Alexander, Gregor, Stan, Trevor, Michael, Evan, Chris—and just stared at each other. It was the first time she’d used his given name since they’d taken her from the hospital. Since before. He’d only been Alex to her here in the twenty-first century. Up to now. She remembers. Bloody hell, sweetheart. You remember.
“Amanda,” he said as everyone stared at him.
Her voice cracked. “Alexander.” She started crying. “It’s not good.”
He stood so fast the chair fell. “Tell m
e, sweetheart.” His chest tightened, his heart beating furiously. She didn’t answer. “Amanda!” He ripped out his earpiece, fidgeting with the controls.
Trevor gave him a you’re-an-idiot look and sighed. “Hers are only outgoing, remember? She can’t hear you,” he said, and Alexander cursed himself for not thinking that she might at some point need to hear him as well as speak to him.
“I don’t know if you can hear me.” Amanda’s voice came through faintly. “I hope we’re close enough.” He paused and he listened as she took a deep breath. “I took Stephen’s earpiece, so it goes both ways, I think.” Trevor shrugged, mouthed my bad, and for a moment, Alexander had a flicker of hope. “But, uh…part of it looks damaged.”
Hope gone. Alexander could barely control his emotions. Why? Bloody hell. What had happened that there was damage to speak of? “Trevor, can you—”
“Oh, now you like this shit?” Trevor said, holding up his computer.
Fuck, the boy was right.
“Alexander—God, I can’t stop saying your name. I missed you so much.” Her voice caught on a sob then. “I’m sorry I let go. I’m so sorry.” She started crying again. “I was so scared. I thought they were going to kill us. Then when Callie slipped from the ledge, and I screamed… God, I was so relieved you’d found us…I never imagined what would happen next. And I wondered, too, like every frigging day, if I had just held on another five seconds maybe you could have saved us both.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I missed you every second of every day we were apart.”
Don’t cry, sweetheart. He shook his head, stunned for moment. “Amanda?” he tried again. “Bloody hell, tell me what’s ha—”
“We were in an accident,” she said, and the rest stood at once. “Stephen and I. God, I hope you can hear me.”
Eight pair of eyes on Trevor and Alexander willed the computer to start up, for the satellite tracker to respond, but Trevor shook his head.
“Satellite’s not responding.”
“We hit something, Alexander,” Amanda said through the earbud. “Something big and metal.”
That answered the satellite question. God, he wished he could speak to her. He just needed to know where she was and then he’d be there in an instant. Bloody hell, tell me where you are, sweetheart.
“We were coming to you, Alexander. I just wanted to surprise you. There must have been something in the road, I don’t know, and then Stephen yelled.” She started crying again. “We must have been awful people in a previous life to get stuck with karma like this.”
Alexander’s chest tightened. Jesus.
“Remember how you used to tell me you could figure out where you were simply by looking up at the stars?” Alexander nodded, though she couldn’t see him. Good girl. “Well, if I look up, I can see…”
“I need my tools,” Alexander said quietly, firmly. It was a command and his men responded in kind. “And a map—maps of the area—topographic and hemispheric.” Gregor and Michael ran in separate directions, both of them moving with militaristic precision.
Tell me what you see, sweetheart. Alexander willed his thoughts to reach Amanda.
“Ursa…um…Major, yes, Major, I’m sure of it. Ursa Major is to our left. Boötes is, wait, I need to get oriented. If Ursa Major is to my left…” She trailed off and Alexander cleared the table with a sweep of his hand, as Michael strode into the room just in time, spreading the topographical maps on it. Gregor was back seconds later, sliding into him as he handed off the wooden box that held his instruments.
“I found Arcturus, Alexander,” said Amanda, her voice breaking the tense silence among the men. “Oh God, the red star! If twelve o’clock is right above us, Arcturus is at three o’clock. I miss how we used to sit and look at the stars together. Do you remember, I would always say which one is that?”
He remembered it all. Tell me what else, sweetheart.
She screamed.
They all braced themselves. “What! Bloody hell, what!” He looked at Michael and motioned above his head with his hand—universal sign for chopper. While they had three at this location, he’d recently finally landed a stroke of luck with an SAR, a search-and-rescue ten-passenger helicopter, equipped with all the bells and whistles to use for training. It couldn’t have arrived at a better time.
“I don’t know how far down we are. I got to the front with Stephen.” She cried again, and he could hear her whispering to his brother. “Be okay, please be okay, Stephen,” she was saying. “He’s been out since we…we—” She didn’t finish.
Alexander rolled up the maps and grabbed his tools. “Go, go, go.”
Emergency lighting cast the hall in an odd yellowish light. As deep in the mountain as they were, it was a good mile to the stairwell that would take them aboveground. At their pace, he estimated six minutes. The men who ran the operations of the facility, a few there for training, and the rest of his detail must have sensed something was up because they fell in line as they passed their bunkers. Minutes later in the stairwell, the strange hue was amplified by the grayish tinge of the walls. Up four floors. Piece of cake. No sounds other than the footfall of their steps and Amanda’s beautiful voice.
She talked to him the entire time. Told him how she’d realized what had happened after she and Callie had fallen from the cliffs. How she’d held Callie tight and rocked her back and forth, her heart broken. Her hope that he would find them. Her joy when she realized they were having a baby. A boy. And then when she’d read the ledger, how the ground beneath her had swallowed her whole. Bloody hell, they were all grown men and she had them all in tears. He didn’t know if he had another loss in him.
Then she started recounting their entire history together. Short that it was.
“Alexander, when we were still in Abersoch and you came home that night and said we had to go—now…oh my god.” She inhaled deeply. “I ne-need a sec.” Jesus she was breathless, and he wasn’t sure if it was from talking so much or if she was injured. “I just remember standing in the hall as everyone started running in different directions, thinking, Oh my god, we’re leaving. And after I’d spoken with Janey…oh, I miss her…and Goodly too. When I’d come back downstairs—you guys had moved so quickly, there had to be twenty huge chests already stacked by the front doors and more outside your study—I didn’t know Callie was hiding under your desk. And when you pointed at that ship and said we’re on it, I remember thinking, Doesn’t he know that I’d go anywhere in this world or another with him? That’s how much I loved you then, and how much I love you now, Alexander.” She was quiet another moment before chuckling again. “God, I hope you can hear me and I’m not just some crazy rambling woman in a busted SUV.”
Michael held the door when they reached the top. The chopper sounded in the distance as they headed for the gear shack and helipad just beyond. Then Amanda started singing their song to him. She hadn’t done so since they were last together in Abersoch, before that night that the world crumbled at their feet. Halfway through, she screamed again, the sound accompanied by crumbling sounds and metal crashing, and his entire body tensed. They kept moving, but he could see the effect it had on the men in front of him, same as him. Tightening of the whole upper body. It was jarring, terrifying. And this from grown men trained to know better.
The gear shack was opened ahead of their arrival and everyone filed in to grab rappelling gear, weapons, explosives. Jesus, at this rate who really knew what they needed? It was an anything goes kind of mission. Gregor jumped into the helicopter first, and then thrust his hand out to haul everyone in. Hugh, their pilot, motioned through the noise to grab a headset and hold the fuck on. Trevor, their best navigator, grabbed the maps from Alexander as he climbed aboard and headed straight for Hugh. They were locked, loaded, and ready for takeoff by the time Hugh nodded at the coordinates Trevor showed him on the map.
“Go. Go. Go.”
Lift off.
They started securing their harnesses, as Evan…Jesus, Evan was getting his tools ready.
“We’re nearly there,” Alexander called behind him to his crew, clocking a familiar copse of trees.
“I can hear you, Alexander,” Amanda said breathlessly.
“I’ve got a visual!” Michael cried at the same time.
“I climbed in front next to Stephen,” Amanda repeated. “The window’s gone, but I think there’s enough room to get him out first.” Bloody hell, he could see them now. Not Amanda. But the truck on its side, driver’s-side up, dangling precariously on the edge of an outcropping, supported by two ancient evergreens from below.
Alexander shook his head accessing the crash site—no, he told himself, landing site. There wasn’t room, or time. He looked at Gregor. They’d both drawn the same conclusion and said “Grab and go” simultaneously. They reconnoitered with the crew, and the two SAR members who had to come along as protocol. Plan in place, Alexander and Gregor informed the SARs this was their job, but then Michael pushed between them and said, “I’ll go with you, Alex.”
Jesus, he’d amassed a loyal retinue. He was about to tell Michael how this was going to go down, when Gregor stepped in and said it for him. “I love you, kid, but this is my job.”